Tell Me S'more
by snapslikethis
Summary: Summer camp AU!


**eleven.**

James rolls the window up, down, and up again until his mom intervenes, flipping the window lock switch so the window is stuck halfway down. He ducks to avoid the wind and settles for bouncing his feet on the back of her chair. That lasts about thirty seconds before she pushes her seat back an inch. James notes the warning and stops.

She should _understand_ his excitement, because he's going out of his mind with anticipation—eight glorious weeks of summer camp. Hogwarts! The promise of adventure outweighs the weird name.

He'd normally reject anything his parents showed any enthusiasm for on principle, but his uncle (who James trusts implicitly) told him about an abandoned mine shaft, endless s'mores, and even gave James his vintage camo jacket for capture the flag.

Mostly, the prospect of an entire parentless summer with Sirius is going to be awesome (even if they're in the Michigan UP with spotty cell reception).

He unconsciously taps his mom's chair again (apparently), because before he knows it she's reclined her seat all the way back. He's squished, pinned, but not painfully so. She's cackling evilly. He knows from experience that she won't relent until he promises to either keep his feet off her chair or switches to his dad's side of the car.

In a blinding stroke of brilliance, he gives her a double Wet Willy instead. She shrieks and pulls her seat up immediately. He'll pay for that before the day is out—she might raspberry him in front of Sirius, or _cry_.

Doesn't matter, worth it.

The drive would be more bearable with Sirius, but _his_ parents had insisted on flying. And James's dad forbade him to ask "how long" before they'd even left Chicago. Now, the GPS marks their progress as they meander through _boring _Wisconsin. His mom tells him that when they get to Cokeworth, they'll be close.

His dad unlocks the window controls, and his mom rolls her eyes, and James daydreams about using the pocket knife his dad had slipped him that morning to carve his name into his bunk while he rolls the window up, down, and up again.

Lily swings back, forth, and back again on the rickety swing, picking shapes out of the clouds, tuning out Petunia. Petunia, who glares at the long processional of flashy cars and rants about elitism. It's the same as every year, first Friday in June, start of summer camp. Pet's only ranting because she's jealous _she's_ not going to Hogwarts.

(God, Pet, who cares if rich kids are going to rich camp? She doesn't even _like_ being outside anymore, but it's that she's left out that bothers her.)

Never mind any of it—the day is glorious after months of snow, and Lily wants nothing more than to swing and feel sunshine on her face and _not_ be in school.

Their mom teaches summer school, but this year Pet was declared "big enough to look after them both." Lily loves Jessica P., the neighbor who normally comes over and watches them and takes them to the movies.

(Jessica P. approved endless ice cream and _always_ sided with Lily.)

Dad said Pet's only job was to make sure Lily did not get "seriously maimed or injured, whatever that means, not to boss her around every second of the day. He also said Lily was perfectly old enough to go off with her friends in the mornings, or to the gas station or park by herself. He also said not to tell mom that last part.

None of that has stopped Pet from bossing her around every second of their first day alone (nothing new), but Lily is old enough to ignore her (also nothing new).

So aside from chores and Pet's bossiness, it's going to be an amazing summer. Once the pool opens, Pet will be too busy swooning over Owen to pay her proper attention. And Lily got an iPod in January and Lizzie has promised to show her how to steal music. Pet will calm down (or get distracted, or both), and then Lily's got weeks of new music and swimming and popsicles and adventures ahead of her.

How cool could a stuffy old place full of rich city kids be, anyway? If it's the sort of place this new version of her sister wants to go, then Lily wants nothing to do with it.

Probably.

And okay, capture the flag would be awesome, but what's it to her?

Lily puts her earbuds in and pumps for the sky—not even Pet's incessant whining will ruin today.

James is a Gryffindor (obviously), which means he sits in the Lion sections of the mess hall, at lodge, and at campfire. He's the youngest of his seven cabin mates, though it hardly matters because Sirius it there. James's bunkmate, Remus, is cool even though his name is Remus. Everyone calls him Lupin to make up for it. James goes by Potter, which makes him feel older than he really is.

Camp is so much more than his uncle and parents had told him. James can already speak Pig Latin, eat seven marshmallows at once, and light a fire.

(Ok, so he just threw the match on the fire frank had built, but still. _Awesome_.)

He put up a solid enough defense during Round 1 of capture the flag that his captain moved him to offense for Round 2—youngest in living memory!

Frank, James's counselor, is the coolest person James has ever met, despite the fact that (at seventeen) he's practically an adult, and even though he does armpit checks to make sure they actually showered with soap every night. Frank calls Pete's armpits weapons of mass destruction, which is hilarious and also true. Pete (who can't be called by his terrible last name Pettigrew) pretends to shoot missiles, which is maybe trying too hard to be cool. But he can do armpit farts and burp the Canadian national anthem, which demands mad respect.

Hogwarts is, hands down, the best place James has ever been. School's okay, but everyone here is relaxed and wants to have fun (the best parts of school, in James's opinion). No one except McGonagall minds if he breaks the rules, or even bothers to enforce them.

He doesn't even mind the singing.

James loves it all so much—completely unironically—that he's too busy to be homesick. Almost. He writes to his mom every week and looks forward to his candy-smuggled care packages, whatever the camp rules say. But he'll never tell anyone, not even Sirius (especially not Sirius), that his raggedy stuffed dog (Cat) is squished at the bottom of his sleeping bag. And though he doesn't care cuddle Cat and give his secret away, James's toes rub against the scraggly fur at night. (It's _almost_ good enough.)

And while he hasn't found the mineshaft yet, he's snuck out three times. Sure, Frank did bust him each and every time, but some things can't be helped.

James will work out a workaround and do some proper exploring before the summer ends.

Although Lily doesn't _like_ like anyone, Carlie Ray Jepson almost makes her wishes she did. Almost—Owen broke Petunia's heart into a "million tiny pieces" (even though they weren't even dating!), and she's been even more insufferable than usual.

If liking someone means carrying on like _that_, no thanks! God!

Summer had started out great with half a dozen sleepovers and swimming, but now her only friend within walking/riding distance, Lizzie, is grounded for piercing her little sister's ears. So Lily's bored out of her freaking mind. She could play Club Penguin indefinitely, but the Evans house only has one computer and, whatever mom says about sharing, Petunia's been pulling rank to torture her Owen Sim in weird, creepy ways.

Lily spends most of her days at the park, or scrounging for enough change to grab a treat from the gas station, but one day while exploring she finds a rundown fort-ish structure in the woods. It was maybe once a fort and could definitely be one again. An amazing one.

(It probably belongs to an axe murderer or is cursed and Lily will die a violent death, but that's a risk worth taking. It's mysterious and interesting and suits Lily perfectly.)

And OK, she might be a little too old for a fort, and Pet would say she's seen Bridge to Terabithia too many times, but who cares?

Being the little sister means almost everything she owns belongs to Petunia first, and what she owns outright still has to be shared. Lily feels the same way about this that she does her iPod. Anyway, Petunia would ruin this in the same way she's ruined everything lately: by being rude, or snobby, or distant.

Puberty has ruined her sister, and their friendship, and Lily vows that it (puberty, being a troll, etc. etc.) won't happen to her. Her mom has urged her to be patient, and one day she'll understand, but no thanks? Lily will stay eleven and a decent human being, thank you very much. _God_.

For now, she's got another month left of summer and a fort to make awesome for when (if) Liz gets ungrounded.

Whatever James said earlier, it's not like James _wants_ to sneak out of camp. It's that every adult in his life has conspired against him and he's left with no other choice.

James doesn't mind mice, but Frank did not appreciate one running across his face in the middle of the night. (Wimp!) The mouse infestation was blamed on James's candy stash. And yes, there may have been a correlation, but to blame it entirely on the sweets was bad science without investigating other contributing factors. No one else saw it this way, however, and McGonagall wrote home to all Gryffindor 1 parents kindly asking that they stop sending sweets.

James's mother stopped immediately, and his dad stopped when caught out by James's mom. Even his uncle sent his regrets.

When hunger pains struck at 3am last week, frank threw an apple at his bunk. Ridiculous.

And then James's commissary privileges were restricted when his second secret stash was found.

All of these were annoying and insulting, but the final straw, the one that really did James in? The brainless decision to eliminate chocolate from campfire.

Graham crackers and one pissant marshmallow does not a s'more make.

2\. Sacrilege.

So, again, with every adult in his life conspiring against him (even Frank, who at 17 barely counted as one), James really feels that he hasn't been given any other choice.

The opportune time to sneak out is all swim, when the Gryffindor counselors are on break and the counselors in training and lifeguard are left to keep fifty kids from drowning. Even they have figured out that James and Sirius cannot be trusted alone together, but James bribes Pete to fake a stomach ache.

James then volunteers to take him to the nurse.

The plan works beautifully. They, the youngest Gryffindor boys, have pooled their resources with the idea of sending him and Pete to the gas station. They change clothes in the woods and hike out using the map his uncle had sent as a peace offering.

X marks the spot. The sweet spot. (Sirius had punched him when he told that joke, but Pete laughs when James tells it again.)

The laughter stops when Pete, anxious about what his mother will say should they get caught, heads back when they take two left turns even though the map only said one. Then it's just James. He'd barely paid attention during orienteering, but the thought of another s'more-less campfire keeps him going.

He's got the map, nearly $30 in loose change and small bills, and the rest of the summer at stake.

As his giant nerd dad would say, onward and upward.

Lily's painting her fort a pathetic sort of pink—red front door paint mixed with white trim paint, thanks to dad's borderline hoarder tendencies—when a boy wanders by. As her fort set deep in the woods, this is unusual. And boy is a loose term, as he looks a little bit deranged and a lot bit disheveled.

Also, he greets her by asking whether she is a mirage.

Deranged or not, he's the most interesting thing to happen to her in ages. Or at least a week (since Lizzie got herself grounded again.)

Once they both establish that neither is an axe murderer, and that he's from Hogwarts, and he's lost after wandering in the woods for hours, and she not only knows where he is but where he wants to go, he—James Potter—starts talking and does _not_ stop.

He promises to pay her in candy if she guides him to the gas station, even more if she can guarantee safe, but discrete, passage back to camp. Lily would have done this free of charge, but she's not stupid. She pretends like it is a big burden and negotiates a decent haul. He balks at her $5 price, but at the end of the day, she points out, he'll have $25 more in sweets than he'll have _without_ her assistance.

It's impossible to argue with that, although it's clear he wants to, so they fist bump and she leads the way.

While he's got no shortage of confidence (a bit too much after having got lost in the woods and thinking you were near death when the road was literally a quarter mile away), he's far from the vomit-inducing scum Pet has always made his sort out to be. As he prattles on about Hogwarts, his enthusiasm is infectious, even if she only understands about half of his references.

At the gas station she carefully selects her sweets. An argument breaks out as to whether the $5 included tax, but as he did not specify this, Lily gets exactly $4.98 in candy with only a twinge of guilt. (That isn't enough to make her put anything back.) She insists that he gets Peanut Butter Cups for s'mores. He cringes and argues, but buys them when she insists that she won't lead him back to camp unless he gets them.

But when it comes time to pay, he comes up short. $30 short to be exact. Best as he can figure, he threw out the money, along with all of his supplies, when he panicked in the woods. _GOD_.

It was a stupid thing to do, and she tells him so, but he's so despondent she doesn't have the heart to be angry with him any longer. She pulls her own $5 from her pocket and tells him to pick a sweet to keep. Only because he'd been through so much and, if he's right, he's in for a world of hurt when he gets back to camp.

(His half hour excursion has turned into a two hour ordeal.)

On cue, Frank (who is, to Lily, to her older cousin's ex), bursts into the gas station. It's clear he's been running—he's all red and puffy in the face, and he can't exactly speak because he's trying to catch his breath. He holds up a single hand to James, who sets his candy slowly on the counter and puts his hands up (as if it were a bank robbery).

And it sort of is. Lily feels like that scene in the _Lion King _when Simba gets in trouble, except she's Nala. Without another word, James follows Frank out the gas station, presumably back to camp.

Summer's nearly over, and its' been dull, and as Lily eats her PB cup, she wonders if Hogwarts might mean something to her after all. Not for Potter (a proper twit, all things considered), but all the things he'd talked about—the games, and the campfire, and the archery and kayaking and capture the flag—those sound divine.

And ok, summer camp (and Hogwarts in particular) sounds like a little bit of a cult, but for the first time Lily wonders what it'd be like to join.

**twelve.**

Cokeworth news, like that for most small towns, consists of the local school's honor roll and the library's updated summer hours. So when the local summer camp changed ownership and the new owner lowered tuition to encourage local campers, it was News.

It was certainly News in the Evans household. Lily had surprised even herself in begging to go. She hadn't given Hogwarts a ton of thought over the school year, but Petunia had grown increasingly distant and the idea of spending another summer at home with her seemed unbearable.

And despite her parents' reservations—the length of time away, the tuition (even reduced)—Lily got her way in the end. Petunia was angry because her parents had vetoed _her_ trip to Disney (which was, as her mom pointed out, only 5 days and twice as expensive as camp), but Petunia wouldn't have any of it. She hissed horrible things to Lily when their parents weren't paying attention.

But Lily was going to Hogwarts, and she was thrilled about it, and Petunia couldn't ruin that for her.

Anyway, she would have been just as annoyed to have Lily hanging around all summer.

After a tense dropping off with her sister, Lily bade farewell to her parents and headed to Gryffindor 1. Her counselor Alice was cheerful and friendly, and Lily was thrilled to see schoolmate Mary MacDonald in her cabin. They weren't close, as Mary was a year younger, but it would be nice to see a friendly face.

If it's even possible, James is more excited to return to Hogwarts than he'd been to come in the first place. Although his parents may disagree, the ride up is triple fun because Sirius joins them.

He's got Frank as counselor again. They'd made a truce last year when Frank had agreed to reinstate s'mores, proper s'mores, if James agreed not to sneak out anymore. At least he didn't have to worry about _that _again. (Frank definitely had to worry about the sneaking out though.)

Besides, his dad stocked a respectful stock of snacks in a rodent proof container.

As camp begins, James enjoys a certain level of notoriety for his gas station stunt the previous summer. Whether good or bad, he doesn't care—at least everyone knows his name. (As it should be.)

The three people he cares most about—Sirius, Peter, and Remus—are all together again. He'd kept up with them all throughout the school year, and the first night in the dorm is like coming home. Not that school friends aren't great, but most school friends just don't get camp. Even Sirius had told him to shut up about it when he went on about it too much.

Even if Sirius isn't as hooked on camp as James, he'd follow James anywhere.

The others balance out his and Sirius' collective stupidity, and they're both funny in their own unique ways, and it's just—they're better together than apart. Most importantly, this year they're the older Gryffindor 1 boys.

It's going to be _awesome._

Dumbledore, the camp's new owner, is wildly eccentric, but to Lily that seems a prerequisite for the job.

Hogwarts is so much more like a cult than Lily had ever imagined, but it's an _amazing_ cult.

One she doesn't quite belong to yet, but desperately wants to. As one of only a handful of local kids, Lily didn't now the camp language, camp jokes, or layout. Apparently some prominent families had pulled their children in protest at the change, and others weren't thrilled with the newcomers. Mostly though, everyone is nice, and Lily ignores those who aren't.

Each camp day is like two weeks in real life, so she makes friends fast and her indoctrination doesn't take very long. She and Mary do roll their eyes at one another when one of the other girls complain about rich kid problems, but that's the worst of it.

Lily's so busy sunup to sundown that she barely has time to consider life out of camp.

She loves arts and crafts and field games. She can find a path through the woods better than anyone else in her cabin, though she can't paddle a boat to save her life. Even the cafeteria food, which the snobbier kids complain about, is a thousand times better than the garbage her school serves during the school year. In truth, there isn't anything Lily doesn't love, but her _favorite_ is capture the flag.

Capture the flag is also James Potter's favorite, and he insists Gryffindor lost last year because he was banned for the (infamous) gas station incident. Lily thinks he's just a little full of himself.

To knock him down a peg, she scares the Gryffindor 1 boys one night by telling them about Dogman. Sightings date back almost a century and Lily adds in all the right details, like the glowing red eyes and her perfect impersonation of the howl. If they knew anything at all, they'd know Dogman is an LP monster, but they don't and they fall for it hook, line, and sinker.

Rumor has it the boys slept with their lights on for days.

Lily feels bad, but not _that_ bad.

Priority number one is to get a proper map of the place. By midsummer all known parts of camp are marked and the southeast quadrant is charted a little at a time. The map is Lupin's brainchild, James just does the art.

He tries to pay attention in orienteering but he still can't reliably tell east from west. His real takeaway is to always have Lupin with him if he's in the woods.

After Dogman, James sleeps with his flashlight for two days until Frank takes his batteries.

James's favorite part of the summer so far has been fleshing out his vocabulary, as he and his friends have properly discovered swear words and use them liberally when the little boys aren't around. Frank calls him out of he uses too many "fucks" in a day, but otherwise lets them be.

He (weirdly) draws the line at their making up dirty lyrics to the camp song though, because sacrilege.

James's real sore spot this year is capture the flag—he's been put on defense again and has to prove himself before he's allowed to switch back. And even though she saved his life last year, Lily Evans is bossy about defense strategies.

(Even though she's never played before this summer. And yes, her ideas are generally good, but it's the principle of the thing.)

Tonight's the last round of the summer, and he's in _charge _of defense, and he'll be _damned_ if they don't win.

It's the last round of the year and Potter's got a stick up his ass about being in charge again.

He's actually a brilliant strategist (though she wouldn't tell him that, his ego doesn't need a boost from _her_). It's that way he _assumes_ he's in charge that rubs wrong with Lily. And it's not that they aren't friendly—the girls mostly keep to themselves and Lily told Olivia the truth about last summer, who told everyone else, and James had been a bit embarrassed about all of it. Come to find out he'd told a different version of events to the camp. Lily hadn't _meant _to embarrass or contradict him, but he hadn't been overly thrilled about it.

They steered clear of each other in general, but not tonight. Because the Golden flag is on the line and they've got to kick some serious ass.

His strategy is, as usual, brilliant, and she's too keyed up to make a fuss. As she's the lightest person who isn't terrified of heights (Liam W. got stuck during Round 3 and his wails gave their position away), Lily climbs into a pine and starts lookout.

Everything's going fine until she carelessly climbs too high in an effort to see more. Her branch cracks and she falls out of the tree. James, in the tree just to her left, hops down and comes to her aid. She's done _something _to her ankle she can't stand on it. Neither of them know what to do, but it hurts so much she starts crying.

Just then, the crack of a branch alerts them to someone else's presence. She didn't shriek, and she doesn't cry out now, however much it hurts, but it feels like Round 3 all over again.

But then, something happens. She and James make eye contact, then nod in mutual understanding. The golden flag is more important than an injured ankle. She mouths "go" and he doesn't wait for her to change her mind, sprinting off to the left so he can assess the danger and reinforce their defenses.

It _is _fractured, she finds out hours later, but they win.

Maybe Evans isn't so bad after all.

**thirteen.**

Third year, James finally understands why most camp activities are separated by gender—he and his mates discover girls. He doesn't like any girl in particular, but it doesn't matter. Frank gives a long, awkward speech on day one about dorm etiquette and allows as much shower time as necessary to keep the cabin "decent".

Second week, James earns a lifetime ban in archery when he accidently shoots Flitwick in the foot. It wasn't _his _fault the girls were playing volleyball in the next field over.

Despite her best efforts, Lily grows boobs and hair in places she'd never dreamed. (It's awful.) Her personality doesn't turn to sour grapes like Petunia's, whose distance only grew in the last year, but she doesn't feel comfortable in her own skin and some days, she hates everything.

She grew about three inches over the school year, making her taller than the Gryffindor boys her age. It drives Potter nuts and she loves it. Her mom says her arms and legs need to catch up, but her paddling strokes (which had gotten better by the end of the year last year) are off, and her kick doesn't connect with the soccer ball in the right way.

Even capture the flag feels like a lost cause.

Her friends are all going through the same thing, and the awkwardness Lily felt the summer before is gone. These are her friends, her people, and she's been fully indoctrinated into cult camp. Now _she's _the one reliving inside jokes and making up songs about the cute older counselors. Growing up is awful, but at least she's not _alone_.

Frank teaches James how to play guitar, but the triumph of the summer is finding the old abandoned mineshaft. Sirius calls it underwhelming. For James it's the principle. It's been on his camp list for two years of searching, and he's glad to have it crossed off.

While he's still shit at orienteering, he has most of camp memorized so it hardly matters.

Stephanie Pearson brought an Ouija board and claims that, like her great aunt, she's a clairvoyant. The girl has watched too much _Ghost Hunters_, but what else have they got to do? Scaring each other shitless is one of the best things about camp.

The planchette _moves_, honest to god, spells out the name of the ghost who definitely-_doesn't _-but-maybe-does haunt the old latrine. Mary swears it wasn't her, and Lily _knows _it wasn't her. And it's all so ridiculous, but Stephanie has a fit, admits she was never a clairvoyant-_anything_, she made it all up, and throws the Ouija board out the window.

They sleep with the lights on for two days.

She can build a better campfire, but James Potter is taller than her by the end of summer.

**fourteen.**

It began simply, escalated quickly, and ended abruptly when James accidentally fell through the Gryffindor Girls' 2 dorm skylight. (He doesn't break any bones, though that might have garnered more sympathy from his mother when she received the bill to replace the window.)

And even though his punishment, sharing laundry duty with Evans, will last for the rest of the summer, James doesn't regret a single decision he'd made.

Alright—Lily _had_ started the prank war against the boys, but it had been a total accident.

She hadn't meant to leave her cinnamon sugar toast by the boys' clothesline. She will never, ever tell anyone this, except maybe Lizzie, but she'd seen the swim trunks, gotten distracted thinking of certain boys _in _them, and left her toast on the post from which the clothesline hung.

By the time word spread around that _Lily Evans_ had sabotaged the boys clothesline with fire ants, causing several boys to get bit you-know-where, she'd earned an astonishing level of notoriety for the second summer in a row.

To admit it had been an accident wasn't something Lily's honor would permit.

Besides, the boys would _never _believe her, retaliation was coming whether she took credit for it or not.

They retaliated swiftly (and rather amateurishly) with cicadas in the girls' sheets. The girls responded with water guns in the middle of the night, which led to a sprinkler in _their_ cabin in the middle of the next.

The girls looked to Lily as their de facto leader, citing her strategic brilliance. Lily felt rather lost, but her lovely counselor Alice (also Frank's girlfriend, in interesting developments since last summer!) helped her along.

Things turn when the girls steal the boys' chocolate for campfire night. Although Lily knows she's stoking the fire, tucking the spent wrappers into Potter's pillow, she doesn't care until she and her friends return from swim to find dismembered doll heads screwed to their bunks. In a bold and dangerous move, the girls, under Lily's direction, steal the golden flag from the boys' bunk even though it's their week to have it. The girls send them go on an hours' long scavenger hunt to earn it back (giggling as the boys enduring a series of humiliations including, but not limited to, a botched haircut and racing around the pool in ill-fitting heels).In the end, they discover that it had been under Potter's bed the entire time.

Lily expects something big in response, and rightly so. She even hears the boys on the roof, but she damn well expects Potter and his mates to keep off the skylights.

Well.

Dumbledore, who permitted rather a lot, negotiates a ceasefire with all parties involved. And, while Lily will have to wash the boys' dirty laundry every Sunday for the rest of the summer, she knows the prank war will the stuff of camp legend.

So, worth it.

James proudly sports a ridiculous reverse mohawk that he can only hope will grow in by start of school.

He doesn't even think about resenting her for it—Evans beat him fair and square and he respects that. And though he scribbles them out every time, he finds himself using his newly re-acquired drawing pencils to doodle her initials in the corner of his chord sheets.

**fifteen.**

Lily gets a ukulele for Christmas and, by the time camp starts (and about a thousand YouTube covers later), she's convinced herself she'll be the next big camp star. Problem is, she can't _actually _sing. That's never stopped her before, and no one at camp can sing anyway. Star might be stretching it, but she _has_ to intervene or Potter will start taking over campfire.

(Fake it till you make it, right?)

It's not that he's bad at singing. He wouldn't be terrible at singing. She's _always _had a deeply weird, intense rivalry with Potter. Ever since that first day in the woods, she can't shake the feeling of trying to outwit him. And while the prank war had ended in her favor last summer, it had technically been a draw rather than an outright victory.

It's that he's good at _everything_ and she sort of hates him for it. Or wants to. It's hard to hate Potter, but he's _not _god's gift to the world. He's _not_. His ego is bigger than Shaker Creek after a good rain and he doesn't need to add "lead campfire" to the list of reasons to inflate it. (Even if he'd look good doing it. She can admit as much. She'd be an idiot not to.)

So it's not that she wants to poison him with iocane powder, but it'd be nice to win outright for once.

She plays and sings—badly, but at least she's having a blast. And _that's _what camp is all about.

And at least she looks cute, thanks to Mary's ability to fishtail braid, because she secretly hopes that hot, funny counselor-in-training Dan (_Divine Dan_)will notice her. Potter can hold his own with a guitar, but Dan is tall and likes the same movies as her and he's in a _band_. She wishes he'd sweep her off her feet and canoe into the sunset. (Or at least take her to the canoe shed to make out.)

It's not like _everything_ she does is to get Dan to notice her. Mary corrects her every time she insists this, saying it's only about 80%. Yes, she's wearing make-up every day, even at camp. And yes, she pretended to know nothing about archery so he would teach her. But it's 60% at best.

She's at camp, after all, there's still plenty of fun to be had. Having a summer crush is a nice, _nice _bonus.

(And having a cute braid, a new push up bra, and a ukulele can't hurt in getting his attention.)

James sets his marshmallows on fire during four consecutive campfires, distracted by Evan's strumming and her bigger tits and her hair shining in the firelight. He doesn't ask her out, because he knows she has a thing for Dodgy Dan. (And he grits his teeth a lot because Dan is stringing her along, and he _wants_ to intervene but it's definitely not his place.

He doesn't ask her out, but he sort of _wants _to. A little. (A lot.)

He's such an idiot, but she let him paint _starry night _on her ukulele. Asked him to, actually. He likes her even though she went to show Dodgy Dan just after he'd finished. And he likes her even though she's a bit of an idiot, insisting on eating her s'mores the wrong way.

But doesn't that make _him _the idiot?

His friends say yes, especially Sirius. He can't disagree, but he does minimize the whole thing. To distract himself, he insists they cause some good old-fashion, _non _-prank war mischief.

They're at camp, after all. What's the point in wasting the summer pining over a (gorgeous, funny) _girl_?

Garbage bag slip-and-collide is born during after a burst of inspiration during free time one Tuesday. Like any game worth playing, the rules are overly-complicated and subject to change, and the chance for injury is exceedingly high. They last two hours—with a dozen others joining in, even Evans—before McGonagall discovers them.

She chews them out for half an hour, shouting about the liability and a gross misuse of camp property until her voice grows hoarse and James offer to get her a drink of water so she can keep going. Sensing impending doom, Dumbledore finally intervenes. They have to replace the broken laundry carts and apologize to the activities director for taking the helmets without permission (used _and_ borrowed at Evans's insistence), but that's the worst of it.

The nurse patches up Davies' cut, so no _lasting_ injuries.

Still, the Marauders (a nickname they'd picked up from Frank last year for their night-time explorations) sneak into town to get some more garbage bags and pop up games happen throughout the rest of the summer.

Lily is paired as co-captain with James Potter for Round 5.

She's not against it, or _him_. Any mind that can come up with the best game in years, slip-and-collide, can strategize a winning strategy for capture the flag. And she can (and does) criticize Potter for his ego, but she'll never question his dedication to winning capture the flag. His mania in _that _is matched only by her own.

But camp is half over and she doesn't want to subject herself to two weeks of bickering while they prepare. And the more time spent bickering, the less time she can hang out with Dan.

Still, in the name of recapturing the golden flag—currently in Ravenclaw possession, humiliating to say the last—they set aside most of their free time to strategize. They agree only that she'll lead defense (he doesn't have the patience for it) and he'll lead offense (she doesn't have the physique to brutalize the enemy) before they're at loggerheads.

The year before, their counselors had insisted on using _rock, paper, scissors _as a mechanism for solving disagreements. Lily suggests trying it now, for civility's sake. They use it strategically when presented with equally good ideas, but differing opinions as to which is preferred—mainly flag and player placement.

It's true that they know each other well enough to predict what the other will do. (James prefers to change it up but she guesses his pattern, and Lily prefers scissors, always.) They try to fake each outer out—it never works. They sometimes have to go to ten rounds before someone wins.

Still, it's better than bickering unnecessarily.

Sometimes Lily won't budge from her position, but Potter listens and even changes his mind a few times. He turns out to be funny in a different way up close—cornier jokes, almost dad-ish in nature, a bit awkward and goofy because his arms and legs are too big for his body and he's always bumping into things. And he's less bro-ish without his friends around to egg him on.

It's a different version of Potter, an easier one to manage. One she doesn't mind at all, actually.

At the very least, it makes planning for capture the flag easier. They're able to plan a solid strategy with minimal bickering and get everyone on board.

Lupin calls their bickering flirting, Pete calls it foreplay, and Sirius's response is always muffled because he gets a pillow to the face.

Frank just rolls eyes. James can't prove it, but he suspects Frank and Alice arranged the co-captains thing.

(He's not complaining—it's been brilliant. _Why _they hadn't been using _rock, paper, scissors_ for the last several years, he doesn't know.)

(Because Evans is fun to poke fun at, and she can dish it back twice as much.)

The match isn't without hiccups, but Gryffindor wins the round.

(Just barely. Owen P. tripped and nearly lost the Ravenclaw flag he'd just grabbed and James Potter, his relay, had to bust ass in the opposite direction to get it from him. And then, when he was outrunning _three _Ravenclaws, he fell eight feet down a hill, and wrist is sprained, but they win and she's over the moon.

Lily hugs him to the exasperated nurse's station to get a sling.

James is the hero of Gryffindor. It makes him (as Sirius says—_ten_ _shades of loser_), but of the celebrations afterward, the one that matters most is the hug Evans gives him. And that she volunteers to accompany him to the nurse's station to get bandaged up.

James is always on his toes with Evans, trying to get the upper hand. What that looks like, he has yet to figure out. He does know that, while he'll only admit it to Cat, he's a bit depressed when their co-captainship is over (even if the end result is a victory).

She just wants to be his friend. He sees that. He can do friends.

Friends is a hell of a lot better than _nothing_.

Lily's joy over their victory is gives way to heartbreak because Dodgy _Ducking_ Dan is in love with another CIT, Kaylee Peterson. Or at least Mary saw them heading toward the canoe shed (holding hands!) after dinner.

And even though she and Dan weren't dating, he'd _definitely _flirted with her.

Mary tries to be sympathetic but, while the other girls spend the night vilifying Kaylee, Mary shrugs and says it's not like summer camp romances are forever, and it would've ended at the end of next week anyway when camp ended.

Intellectually, Lily _knows _this—she'd spent the summer before (when she wasn't pranking the Gryffindor 2 boys) pining over Jake P., a Ravenclaw. They'd kissed twice, and it had been nice, but it also hadn't been a big deal. Their romance had ended with camp, no big deal. But _this_ was different_—_she'd_ really_ liked him. And he'd said she was so good on ukulele, and had bought her a Reece's before campfire.

(And if _that_ isn't leading a girl on, what is?)

It does occur to Lily that she's acting a bit unhinged, pretty much exactly like her sister did not so many summers before. The only thing she does with this information is imagine torturing a Sim Dodgy Dan in horrible, creepy ways. She doesn't have a computer at camp, so she settles for making a little voodoo figure of him in arts and crafts.

Lupin declares this wildly unhealthy and calls for an intervention.

An intervention at summer camp looks like this: bribe the CITs with soda to look the other way, take an off-trail night hike over the hills, bushwhacking past the frog pond and out to the old lake in the corner of the property. Canoe at midnight. Tip over in the lake, getting soaked, because you are stupid enough to get into a canoe with James Potter. Sing at the stars, even though Pete makes fun of your terrible voice. Laugh until you almost pee your pants. Brave the haunted outhouse because you _will _pee your pants if you don't piss soon. Ignore that Mary and Sirius definitely left to make out (trust that they will find their way back). Bid Pete and Lupin a good night when they give up and head back to bed.

Take Potter to your long-abandoned pink fort. Find that it has been painted blue by parties unknown. (Or green, it's hard to tell in this light.) Reminisce about the first time you met, about life outside camp, and art and movies and favorite vines and food and families and what a shit singer you really are. Talk until the coldest part of the night sets in and you realize the counselors will set out a search party for you soon.

Talk for another hour for good measure.

Finally yawn and stretch and stand up, because if you don't leave soon you won't be back before everyone wakes up. Wish the next fort occupant happy daydreaming and fortifying. Head back to camp, slowly and a little bit reluctantly, but a tiny big happier than you were at the beginning of the night. Full, at any rate, though of _what_ you aren't sure.

Still indulge in a good cry in bed, because sometimes boys can be complete assholes.

Amend that later, because sometimes (some) boys can be kind of amazing.

Although she and Potter have followed each other on social media (as camp friends do), they exchanged numbers and promise to keep in touch throughout the school year. It's going to be interesting, being friends with Potter, but she's not _not _looking forward to it.

**sixteen.**

CIT James obeys the rules, listens to his counselor faithfully, and never sets a bad example for his charges, the campers. This is the lecture he receives from McGonagall on day one, anyway. The serious façade lasts about as long as it takes for Frank to say both hello and holy-shit-I-thought-it-would-be-Lupin in the same breath. After that, it's business as usual.

His parents had floated the idea of skipping camp this year, going on an extended family vacation somewhere, but James had scoffed. Where _else _would he rather be than camp? His friends take the piss about the CIT thing but they're back at camp, too: Sirius as a lifeguard, Lupin as Gryffindor 1 CIT, and Pete as an archery assistant under Flitwick.

Even though they don't have any _real_ authority, they enjoy late curfew, unstructured free time, and access to the staff areas. (Not that restrictions have stopped them from doing exactly as they pleased before. It's just nice that they may get have less tellings off from McGonagall this summer).

The only tradeoff is no capture the flag—campers _only_. James still plans to coach his boys to victory though.

James takes over for swim, lunch, and from lights out 'til midnight. He also helps with wake up, breakfast, and morning activities. The rest is free time.

It's going to be a fantastic summer, because Evans is a _lifeguard_.

He'd known it intellectually, but actually seeing her on the lifeguard stand for two hours every day is a different story. He neglects his charges more than once because Lily Evans is in a _swimsuit_ all day, every day. He does his best to avoid staring.

(Although, to be fair, he is always staring at her, swimsuit or not.)

To avoid being a complete creep, he mostly sits by Sirius's lifeguard stand, pining.

They've transitioned from competitors to friends (competitive friends) this year, having kept in touch throughout the school year. His summer crush did _not _end at the end of the summer. It's grown into something more, he doesn't know _what_, but his throat goes dry and his hands sweat and he feels like he's perpetually making an ass out of himself. He's not used to being out of his depth, but that's exactly how he feels with Evans.

Coming back to Hogwarts wasn't even a question Lily had asked, but she second guesses herself by the end of week one.

Camp isn't the same without Mary, who took a job at Meijer in April. And being on the caregiving end of things has changed her perspective. Her CIT friends are still in that in-between stage of not-quite-campers, not-quite-staff, but she is firmly in the staff side of things. Her her car insurance isn't going to pay for itself, so she'd joined as a lifeguard rather than a CIT.

It's okay, but all the boys are staring at her, and some don't even try to hide it. She gets it—pretty girl in a swimsuit—but it's exhausting. She often retreats to the staff cabin to avoid the male gaze.

James Potter keeps staring at her, too, more than his usual even though he's putting in a good faith effort not to. Thing is, she likes it when he stares (though she's putting in a good faith effort not to).

They'd never been exactly _unfriendly_, but a year of late night Skypes (and a Chicago meetup over the New Year) solidified their friendship. The flutter in her stomach when she catches him staring, the way she laughs at all of his jokes (even the unfunny ones) indicate a big flashing _more than friends _neon light, but Lily remains cautious.

They're friends, good friends, and she doesn't want to upset that.

Anyway, she'd ruined most of her summer pining over a boy and she's determined not to let that happen again.

Still, she can admit that when James joins her most mornings for second breakfast after he's done with morning crew and before she readies the pool for the day, it's the highlight of her day. She and James are the official campfire starters now, because James is in fact the best but McGonagall won't leave him unsupervised with any kind of fire starting paraphernalia. And when Frank officially passes on sing-a-long leader baton to him, she's genuinely happy for him and tells him so.

It's going to be an interesting summer.

During week three Sirius threatens to drown him if he keeps whining about Evans without doing something about it.

He'll drown _himself _if he can't sort it out. He said he wouldn't waste another summer pining after her, but this is less pining and more active, mutual flirtation. (If he's not imagining things, according to Lupin and Pete.)

Most interesting, she's flirting back. Others have noticed and pointed it out. He didn't dare believe them at first, but the evidence is stacking up in his favor. She turned down not one, but three date requests (that he knows of). She brought him cereal the other day when he didn't make their standing breakfast date.

The Gryffindor 2 campers take bets on when James will make his move.

Sirius's idea isn't a _bad _idea, all considered. He hasn't got any better ideas. It's not a very _good _idea, but Sandlot is one of her favorite movies and he can always play it off as a joke. She'll get a kick out of the reference, and maybe it'll break some of this tension between him.

So the next day while Sirius is on break James pretends to drown. Although he'd watched the scene over and over the night before he goes off script, begging Evans to him before he sinks to the bottom of the deep end.

Never one to back down from a shenanigan, she rises to the occasion, making a big show of pretending to rescue him. She drags him out of the pool, calls his name. He doesn't stir, just pretends to be on unconscious. He can't see her, but he hears her intake of breath when she figures out what he's doing.

(The scene, of course, is that Squints kisses the girl while she starts giving him CPR. It's "highly problematic," as Lily says, but they both find it hilarious.)

He can't see her, but he knows she's deciding what to do.

James's heart skips a beat when she says "stand back" and starts administering CPR. It hurts, she's not exactly going _easy _on him—and the anticipation builds in James. He's about to make his move, whatever that move will be, when—

—someone licks his face?

Lily descends into a fit of giggles as the mangy camp dog, Cleo, covers James's face in slobbery kisses.

He sputters, jumps up, and gives them both a betrayed look. All of the kids had jumped out of the pool when she'd rescued James, even though, by the time she started doing CPR, most of them knew it was a joke. His eyes were closed, but the smirk on his face gave the fact that he was definitely not unconscious away. She tells him it serves him right (and it does), but she's laughing and she _knows _she's flirting.

Everyone else does too—Lily realizes her fatal mistake in delighted expressions of the campers' faces; this will be all across the cap by dinner. She shouldn't have reacted to him like this in a pool full of kids, or _at _all.

Like most things with James Potter these days, she just can't seem to help herself.

Sirius offers to pay Lily to be a counselor next year if it means she'll wear more clothes. She's going to go after the counselor position anyway, but she makes a mental note to negotiate a hefty bonus from Black, later.

As staff, both James and Lily are subject to the Wheel of Doom—a decade's old torture device in which anyone who receives mail must take a spin and suffer whatever minor humiliation the wheel dictates in order to receive it.

Because it's a camp tradition going back decades, staff receive a _lot _of mail from campers, their campers. Sometimes alumni send a letter to "Gryffindor 2 counselor" not even knowing who the recipient will be. But the real drama is the letters staff send to each other—deodorant coupons, toenail clippings, crusty old socks.

Sirius sends James something so awful he never pulls it out of the envelope and burns it at campfire that night.

Lily is careful to mess with everyone _except _James for the first half of the summer. After his stunt at the pool, campers are openly teasing her now, sometimes alone but definitely when they're together. She decides to take matters into her own hands. They're in this awkward _neither wants to ruin their friendship _holding pattern and something's _got _to give.

Because they are friends, but there's more. She lives for second breakfast and late 3 a.m. woodland chat sessions. She adores his stupid made-up constellations and insistence for hiking when he can't use a compass to save his life and his sideways grin and endless thirst for adventure. He's brilliant and funny and the darling of the camp, a fixture.

She's not wasting her summer pining after a boy; he's one of the reasons she loves camp in the first place.

So, after a summer of no letters, she sends James Potter a picture of the _Sandlot _cast with the words "game on" scrawled on the back. The spinner wheel renders judgment; he puts on his sweatbands and leads the camp in a quick aerobic session.

(No reason she can't have _fun_ in the process.)

Next day, he receives two guitar pics (each in their own envelope) and takes a pie to the face.

On day three she sends three letters—a ransom letter (letters cut out and everything) for Cat, a legitimate hard copy photo book of Cat going around camp, usually with Lily's purple nails present somewhere in the frame, and his _own_ map of the camp (with a post-it on top spelling out "1am, tonight" next to the canoe shed.

He's half-impressed at her gall, half-embarrassed that the entire camp now knows he sleeps with a stuffed animal. And while he knows no harm will come to his childhood best friend, he didn't know anyone _knew _about him in the first place.

He shouldn't be surprised, not when it comes to Evans, not anymore.

And it's pathetic, but his main takeaway—as he's in a tiara dancing to _Dancing Queen_ in front of the entire camp—is that Lily Evans must like him an awful lot if she's willing to invest that much time and energy into a prank.

He doesn't notice until after dinner that the last back of the post-it is signed with "X O –your favorite lifeguard."


End file.
